


Is That My Shirt?

by fannyvonfabulus



Series: The Cavill Files [5]
Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Kitchen Sex, PWP, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannyvonfabulus/pseuds/fannyvonfabulus
Summary: Nonny asked: Ok but imagine teasing Henry all day wearing nothing but his shirt, and then acting all innocent about it he would def make you pay for it 👀Smutty smut, kitchen boinking, a little bit rough? Kinda? But completely consensual all round. Henry’s been frustrated all day and he just needs in like, now.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader
Series: The Cavill Files [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821538
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	Is That My Shirt?

**Author's Note:**

> Smutty smut, kitchen boinking, a little bit rough? Kinda? But completely consensual all round. Henry’s been frustrated all day and he just needs in like, now.

You’re woken by the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs and roll over onto your back with a grown at the fact it’s morning already. You are definitely _not_ a morning person, which Henry finds hilarious when he slips out of bed at the crack of arse o’clock every morning to go for his run. He’ll just chuckle softly as he kisses your forehead after you make grabby hands at him and then disappear out of the bedroom. He always sets the coffee machine off so that it’s ready for you both by the time he gets back. It’s the same every morning that he’s at home and despite it being _way_ too early in your opinion, you smile to yourself at how blissfully domestic is all is. 

As much as you want to stay in your duvet burrito, the lure of coffee eventually becomes too much and you drag yourself out of bed, stretching your whole gloriously naked body up towards the ceiling and hearing something pop. Giving a satisfied sigh, you grab the nearest clothing item on your way through the bedroom to the landing, which just happens to be Henry’s pale blue dress shirt from the day before. You slip it on with bleary eyes, not even particularly aware of what you just picked up and haphazardly fasten enough buttons so that you’re not completely exposed and shuffle downstairs to the kitchen. With a jaw cracking yawn and a grumble about it being too early, you make a beeline for the coffee machine. As you reach up into the cupboard, the ridiculously long shirt sleeves get in your way so your have to roll them up a little to keep them out of the way. Shoving your mug under the spout and stabbing the button, you yawn again as you watch the delicious elixir start to dribble into the mug. You absently try to drag fingers through the birds nest that is your morning hair, grumbling again before you hear the rustle of paper and then big, warm hands are snaking around your waist from behind you.

“That’s my shirt,” Henry practically growls behind you in a low voice, and then there are kisses being peppered across the back of your neck as he runs his big hands over any bit of you that he can reach over the soft fabric of the shirt like he can’t get enough of you wearing his clothes.

“Ssshhhh, _coffeeeeee_ …” You croak, which makes Henry laugh and he just carries on kissing your neck. He pushes the collar of the shirt to the side a little with his nose so that he can trail his lips across your shoulders making you shiver as you bring your mug of sweet, sweet life force to your lips for a sip. And when he presses up behind you nice and close, those ridiculous running shorts of his leave absolutely _nothing_ to the imagination. _At all_.

“I have places I have to be today and you come down here wearing my shirt,” Henry rumbles as he mouths over the meat of your shoulder and skims his hands up across your breasts.

“Ain’t my problem babe,” You fire back and arch up into his hands a little because that friction is delicious. 

“Oh, but it will be later Little One,” He purrs into your ear, nipping at the sensitive patch of skin just behind it, and makes sure to grind his hard on into the flesh of your butt. And then his searing heat is gone with a chaste kiss to your shoulder when he heads off upstairs to shower. You chuckle to yourself and take the stool he just vacated, along with his newspaper, and quietly sip your coffee as you listen to Henry getting ready upstairs for his day. 

When he comes back downstairs, he leans against the door-frame of the kitchen and looks at you fondly, watching you yawn into your coffee and blink at the newspaper but knowing that you’re not actually reading it because it’s way too early for you to have even one coherent thought yet. He wanders over and drops a kiss to the top of your head as he walks past to grab his keys from the counter top.

“Time for me to go babe,” Henry says as he heads out to the hallway and the front door. Kal follows him, his claws making that familiar tip-tap on the slate tiles of the kitchen floor, and you follow. Henry pauses in the open doorway, arms open, and you melt into his arms with a grumble because you’ve only been awake about half an hour and he’s already leaving for the day. You breathe him in, filling your senses with him fresh from the shower. Kal waits patiently until his turn and gets a scratch behind his ears and a kiss on his nose. “You take care of my girl today mister, OK?” Kal boofs in reply and Henry smiles as he straightens then pulls you into his side and kisses your forehead. “And I’ll see you later Little One.”

You mumble a goodbye and then watch with Kal from the open front door as Henry trots out to his car and away for the day. You sigh heavily and look down at Kal, who just looks back and probably would have shrugged if he could, before trotting back into the house. You follow, closing the door behind you and then sigh again. You don’t have work today and now you have the prospect of at least the next 10 hours on your own. Given Henry’s reaction to you wearing his shirt this morning, you think you might have a few ideas about how to pass the time…

**.oOo.**

You take the first picture to send to Henry when you and Kal go out into the garden after waving him off for the day. Its early Summer and the weather is already warm despite how early it is. You refill your coffee and take that and the newspaper with you to the table and chairs out on the patio. You prop both your legs up on the table so that nearly all your legs will show in the photo and snap a few obnoxiously aesthetic pictures with your coffee and paper in the shot too. Then you send Henry the one that shows the most leg, the shirt hem only just covering your modesty, with a caption that says _“Wish You Were Here.”_ He must still be driving because he doesn’t check his messages for around 45 minutes, then leaves you on read.

Oh, it’s _on_ …

The next picture you send mid-morning and you’re in the office you share to check you emails and dick around on the internet to pass some time. You still haven’t bothered changing, so you undo all but two of the shirt buttons so that the fabric hangs open and shows the swell of your breasts very nicely. You take the shot showing all that and some of the desk with a message that says “ _All work and no play makes Y/N a bored girl.”_

Again, he leaves you on read.

You snicker to yourself as you picture his face when he receives your messages, his features no doubt going through a whole range of emotions in a matter of seconds. This has been a game you’ve played with each other since you got together, and the end result is always some of the best sex you’ve ever had. You’re hoping that today will be no different. You finally decide to go shower, making sure to use Henry’s shower stuff so that you smell like him. When you’re done, you slather yourself in suntan lotion that smells like coconuts and summers in Italy knowing full well that the scent of that added to the scent of his shower gel will drive Henry to distraction when he smells it. You pull his shirt back on afterwards, as well as a pair of Henry’s boxer briefs so as not to flash the neighbours when you start on some weeding in the garden. You have pretty wide hips thanks to your curves, but you still have to roll the waistband over twice to get them to stay put. You pootle around the garden for the rest of the afternoon, weeding and pruning as Kal mooches around with you and then flops down in the shade. As the sun starts to dip, you get the hose out and start watering everything, making sure to snap a picture of you with the shirt falling off one shoulder to show a lot of golden skin and send that to Henry with the caption _“It’s getting hot in here.”_

Once again, he leaves you on read.

Eventually, you find your way back into the house and into the kitchen as you think about starting on dinner. It’s pretty warm out still so you’re thinking that something simple and light will be the best way to go. You give Kal his dinner first and then set about getting all the bits and bobs to make some oven-baked salmon steaks with new potatoes and a salad. As you’re starting to chop things up, you hear a key in the front door and a grin inches across your face because this will go one of two ways. Either Henry will pretend that he hasn’t been hard as fucking nails all day and act like nothing happened just to tease you, or you’re about to be covered in big, beefy and horny.

It’s the latter.

He’s barely got the front door closed behind him before you find yourself pressed hard into the kitchen counter in front of you, the edge of the granite worktop digging into your hips. Then big, warm hands are on you, one sliding into the open front of the shirt to grab a hold of one of your breasts, and the other wrapping loosely around your throat, which just makes your grin even wider.

“Well hello to you too darling,” You drawl, then can’t help the gasp that follows when Henry pinches your nipple sharply and his hand flexes against your throat. You wisely drop the knife that you had in your hand before you get too caught up in what’s happening and end up accidentally stabbing Henry with it. There are teeth nipping your neck and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access, and your hands move to grip the edge of the counter top.

“Do you have _any_ idea how fucking hard i’ve been all day knowing that you’ve spent the whole time just walking around in my shirt, you little minx,” Henry growls in your ear and then he drags his nose down your neck to your shoulder and inhales deeply, growling louder when he smells the mix of himself and your sun baked skin.

“I think I might have an inkling,” You reply and arch your back just enough that your behind presses up against the straining front of his jeans, and Henry thrusts back against the swell of your ass, letting you know _exactly_ where this is going. You make a keening noise low in your chest and bring a hand up to cover his over your neck, 

Before you know what’s happening, Henry is spinning you around, lifting you up and in one stride is dropping you on the opposite kitchen counter, the cold, hard surface feeling wonderful against the heated skin at the back of your thighs. He presses in between your spread legs and claims your mouth in a heated kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and so fucking perfect. You wrap both legs around his thick waist and get both your hands fisted in his hair as he runs his own up and under the cotton of your shirt so that he can get at your skin. He scratches blunt nails down the length of your back, which makes you moan into his mouth. Henry’s poor buttons don’t last long as he pulls both sides of the shirt you’re wearing apart and you distantly hear the buttons bouncing off somewhere in the kitchen. He wastes no time in taking both of your breasts in each of his big hands and giving them a harsh squeeze, and then he’s dipping his head down to take one of your nipples between his teeth forcing a hiss from you. All Henry does is growl in return, knowing full well that your tits are hypersensitive. He can even get you to cum from that alone sometimes. You retaliate by leaning your head down just enough to get his earlobe in, between your own teeth and then all bets are off. Henry is pawing at the boxer briefs you have on and you hear a distinct ripping sound as you fumble with the belt buckle on his jeans. Both of his big hands grab your hips and pull you forward roughly to the edge of the counter, then he’s getting his jeans undone to free his cock and before you can even draw a breath in, he’s buried to the hilt in your tight, hot cunt. There’s a brief moment of stillness as you both sigh happily at the feeling, your head thrown back and Henry’s lips against your throat, but after that, all you can do is hold on with one hand still fisted in his hair and the other slapped down on the shining granite beside you. There’s no real rhythm to it at all really, but the clear hunger that Henry has for you takes your breath away. There’s nearly always some sense of urgency when the two of you fuck, especially from Henry, like he can’t wait to be inside you. But it’s rare that he’s this frantic and it’s something you love. Like he’s so desperate to be fucking you that he’s almost shaking with it. It makes you feel so desired and sexy that this huge hunk of beautiful beefcake needs you _that_ much, and that he’s all _yours_. That thought makes you clench around him on his next harsh thrust in and Henry lets out a moan that starts deep in his chest and rumbles out into your mouth when he claims your lips again. Everything is searing heat and urgency and using your hand on the kitchen counter as leverage, you start to thrust back against Henry, meeting his hips with your own. Each slide of Henry’s cock into your dripping centre is delicious torture and you’ve both been on edge all day so this is going to be over a lot faster than either of you would like. Still, the evening is still young and neither of you have anywhere else to be. Henry pulls his face away far enough that he can look you in the eyes. It’s one of his things when you’re fucking: he needs eye contact. He wants to see you fall apart, wants to watch your eyes flutter closed as he rips a moan out of you with each thrust. You’ve been so worked up all day that you don’t need any extra stimulation, his thick cock is all you need right now. He can see the tell tale twitches in your features and he angles his thrusts to better hit your sweet spot and the first time he does, your hand flies from his hair to fist in the front of his t-shirt, twisting the fabric so hard you might rip it.

“That’s it kitten, I see you,” Henry breaths out in the scant air between your faces. “Give it to me, I want it.” 

With the pounding of Henry’s hips at that angle, the thickness of his cock filling you up perfectly and stretching you deliciously wide, it’s only a few moments more and you feel the coil deep in your belly start to unfurl to send delicious sparks shooting through your whole body. Your heels dig into the meat of Henry’s peach of a behind, your thighs clamped around his waist hard enough that it makes him hiss and dig his fingers into the flesh of your hips and then there’s a guttural groan fighting its way out of your throat as Henry fucks the orgasm out of you right there on the black granite of the kitchen worktop. He watches your face contort with bliss as his hips start to stutter, desperately chasing his own high as he takes you in. You tighten up around him, coaxing him with your silken walls and that’s what does it. Your eyelids flutter back open just as he thrusts in and in _and in_ , emptying himself inside you while he looks you right in the eye, pupils blown and mouth hanging open in an almost silent moan. He’s beautiful in that moment, finally cresting the high that his hips have been chasing since he got home. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and smile lazily at him and he leans into it as he shudders between your spread legs. Then it’s like all his strings have been cut and he slumps forward against you, face mashed into the side of your neck, both your hearts pounding. You wrap him up in your arms and legs, the fingers of one hand gently combing through his mess of brunet curls and the other smoothing up and down the now drenched cotton of his t-shirt. You stay like that for long, content moments, heartbeats slowing coming back to normal and pulses no longer racing. 

“Well, that escalated quickly,” You manage to huff out when you get your breath back and Henry snorts a laugh into the sweat slick skin of your neck. He lifts his head, trailing kisses over your shoulder and neck as he does, before he meets your lips with his own, gentle now that you’ve fucked each other silly on the kitchen counter. “Hope you’re still hungry, big guy.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I’ve worked up an appetite,” Henry chuckles, resting his forehead against yours with a lopsided, lazy grin when you roll your eyes at him. You share some soft kisses as he softens inside you and then he’s lifting you up off the kitchen counter like you weigh nothing and marching towards the stairs and your shared bedroom. “And what’s for pudding Mrs Cavill?”

“I can think of a few things Mr Cavill.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumble: fishcustardandclintbarton


End file.
